Dress Up
by Hola-Meg-a-Cola
Summary: [Roy!centric][One shot] For a man with such a devotion to mini skirts, his childhood began with a loathing for the female attire.


**Setting**: Pre-series.

**Sch-warning**: Cross dressing.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own squat. It belongs to the wonderful cow known as Hiromu Arakawa. She pwns like whoa.

**Author's Notes**: I came up with this when I read the rumor that Roy had older sisters who used to dress him up like a girl. I thought it was cute and the wheels began to turn, in a manner of speaking.

**Feedback**: The more, they merrier.

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For a man with such a devotion to mini skirts, his childhood began with a loathing for the female attire.

"I let you play by yourselves one time and this is what happens?"

Ming Li Mustang, a shapely woman with jet black hair and small, opaque eyes, stood in shock and anger at the sight before her. In the soft yellow room belonging to her and her husband stood their prepubescent daughters, their eyes downcast to the floor in shame. Behind them, their younger brother stood quietly on a small wooden stool, tears threatening his young eyes.

The young boy didn't look very much like his gender; instead, he was dressed in a lacy, light pink dress that touched his small knees, white stockings covering his legs with matching white Mary Jane shoes. His nails were poorly painted with bright red nail polish and his wrists were decorated with beaded and silver bracelets. Around his neck were several large necklaces and in his raven black hair was a matching bow, off center. His face resembled that of a clown, most of it caked in poorly done foundation and his cheeks meshed in heavy blush. Roy's eyelids were splattered dark blue and his lips were smeared ruby red.

The mother sighed; she had let the children play by themselves in their rooms on this particular occasion while she was swapping recipes with her neighbor and had run to her room where she had a few traditional Xingese recipes tucked away in an old shoebox. She had not expected to see what she did. "You girls have nothing to say?" She spoke harshly, not really expecting an answer. The oldest girl, Sofie, raised her head, clearing her throat. "But, mother, you must agree that Roy looks adorable!" She suggested. A smile formed on the next oldest girl, Georgiana, as she added, "He should've been a girl, like us!"

To their discomfort, Ming Li was not amused. She looked at her youngest daughter, Paula, who stood quietly, trying her best not to tremble. Ming Li Mustang, the daughter of a Xingese trader, was normally a very kind woman but when her rules are broken, namely using her cosmetics without permission and dressing up her son like a girl, she was a force to be reckoned with. "Had any of you considered Roy's feelings in this matter?" She asked sternly. This time, she _did_ want an answer.

The girls said nothing. Sighing, she looked over their heads and to her son. "Roy, darling, come here." Ming Li cooed softly. Roy sluggishly stepped off the stool and walked to his mother, wedging between his sisters. Sofie and Georgiana bit their bottom lips in order to prevent their snickering but an icy glance from their mother purged them of their humor.

Ming Li lowered herself, leaning on one knee, and observed her melancholy son. The eyes he had inherited from his mother refused to look at her, his face tilted downward. She rested her hands on his shoulders, smiling weakly at him. It wasn't the first time Roy had been dressed like a girl; it had not been the first time his sisters dressed him up like a girl. They had done it several times before, the first time was just a simple dress but the more they dressed him up, the more elaborate they had decorated him. This was the first time their mother caught them.

She turned her head back to her daughters. "You three should be ashamed of yourselves," She stated, "wait until your father sees this-"

"Sees what?" The four children and their mother turned themselves around to see Frederick Mustang at the threshold of the bedroom, his briefcase still in his hand. He had inherited his mother's slanted, Xingese eyes while his father possessed large, brown orbs. He briefly glanced at his daughters through his thin glasses that rested at the tip of his nose and then at his wife and son. A beat passed. "I see…"

Placing his briefcase down, Frederick took his young son's hand into his own. "Come on, Roy. I'll get you cleaned up." He told his son softly before looking back at his daughters. His expression was cool and nonchalant as he continued, "I believe your mother can hand out your punishments." The girls stared at him blankly, too shocked to say anything, as he and Roy walked out of the room.

Frederick closed the door of the bathroom, muffling his wife's yelling. He looked down at his son who was still wiping the tears away from his eyes and smiled softly. Removing his tweed jacket, Frederick placed it on the floor before he twisted the brass knobs of the bathroom sink, allowing a white washcloth to soak in steaming water. After a minute, he turned the water off and squeezed the cloth, returning his attention to his son.

He reached out his hand to Roy's face, his small chin in his father's large hand. Frederick sighed; for the most part, the young Roy was a clone of his father, all but his eyes.

"Close your eyes tightly," Frederick commanded, to which Roy promptly obeyed. The hot cloth touched his cheek, causing the boy to flinch. "Calm down, Roy; it's the only way to get this off your face." The washcloth continued to rub against his cheek, scrapping away the thick makeup. Roy whined as the cloth attacked his eyes, rubbing harshly at his eye lids.

The boy opened his eyes and watched as his father removed the bow from his hand tossed it onto the floor, sighing as he did so. Frederick was leaning his head closer to his son when something caught his attention. He lowered his head and sniffed Roy's chest, silent, and the pulled away. "They used Ming Li's good perfume," Frederick muttered to himself, shaking his head before he looked at Roy briefly. "Try to avoid your mother tonight."

Moving to the bathtub, he twisted the knobs and let the water run as he raised Roy's arms in the air and began tugging the dress over his head, dropping it to the ground once he had managed to pull it off. "Lift your left leg," Frederick commanded and his son obeyed. His hand quickly unbuckled the white leather strap, pulling it off and tossing it aside and repeated with his son's other leg. Frederick sighed again. "Sit down." His son dropped his small body to the bathroom floor, allowing him to pull off the stockings and undergarments.

Frederick leaned back to the tub and turned the water off, which threatened to touch the top edges. He held out his large hand to Roy, who in return held it with his small one as he lifted his small leg into the large bath tub. Feeling his son's grip tighten, Frederick held his son's shoulder as he entered the tub completely.

Roy sunk into the hot water, warming his chilled skin. Frederick squirted the creamy white shampoo from a slender bottle onto Roy's black top before scrubbing the contents into his son's hair, lathering it up. Roy closed his eyes at the lather thickened; he knew better than to open his eyes at a time like that. For a few minutes, Frederick's thick fingertips attacked his son's scalp, cleaning. Roy's damp hands wiped the suds from his eyes and he gawked at Frederick.

"Thank you, papa," His said in a small voice. Frederick paused momentarily then smiled. "Rinse," He said, and Roy took a deep breath and dunked under the water, his father's hands rinsing out the shampoo. Roy came up from the water, the corners of his small mouth tugging, forming a smile as Frederick began scrubbing the soap against his small chest.

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_Fin.

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End file.
